


Dear Shellhead

by merthurxmalec



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: I watched the trailer a million times and im sad, M/M, Part Epistolary, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), This is pure angst, endgame spoilers ish I guess?, have fun, idk how to tag, literally no fluff at all, other characters are mentioned but don't actually appear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 20:27:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18169553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merthurxmalec/pseuds/merthurxmalec
Summary: He smiled up at Steve, his eyes still half closed with sleep, and all Steve could think wasWoah.





	Dear Shellhead

**Author's Note:**

> so I watched the trailer and I'm sad, so I'm going to make y'all sad too. 
> 
> This is for my irl parabatai, because she is having a bad day and needs some stevetony angst.

_Oh,_ Steve thought.

 

The thought hit him very suddenly, unwarranted and random but so, so familiar. Steve wasn’t aware of this at all – the realisation had left him speechless, caused him to take a physical step back and stare with an open mouth – and yet, the realisation didn’t feel strange. Not by a long shot.

 

It felt a bit like finally coming home.

 

And that is the thing, Steve has not been home in a very long time. Up until recently, Steve’s description of home was always the dingy one-bedroom apartment in the less-desirable side of Brooklyn. It was Bucky’s jacket left haphazardly on top of the small bed they both shared. It was that easel Bucky had built him for his birthday one year, standing in its spot by the window, overlooking the grim factory in which they both had worked. Home for Steve was the forties, it was Mets games and uncomfortable dancing dates and art class twice a week. That home had been lost to Steve a long time ago, and he had made his peace with that. He had come to terms with the fact that he would never experience that feeling of familiarity again.

 

And then one morning, _he_ walked into the kitchen, his tank top crumpled and with grease and what looked to be motor oil smudged across his face. He slumped into the kitchen, his brown eyes clouded with sleep, muttering equations under his breath. Steve’s hands moved with reflex, grabbing a large Iron Man mug off the shelf and filling it with coffee, handing it over wordlessly. And then, _then,_ he looked up and smiled at Steve, his eyes still half-closed with sleep, and all Steve could think was

 

_Woah._

And just like that, home became something entirely different.

 

* * *

 

_Dear Shellhead,_

_I always love the look you have when you come out of the workshop. Don’t get me wrong, I think you are the unhealthiest person I have ever met. When you go into that workshop, you never come out and it is equal parts worrying and frustrating. You really do need to look after yourself more, and the fact that you don’t worries me no end._

_But sometimes I go in there and you absorbed in your own world, your eyes bright with intelligence and above all, happiness. You look so alive, Tony. It makes me feel alive too. You are right, I am a fossil, a relic of the past who doesn’t belong in this world, in your world. But when I see you standing there, your fingers moving across the screen in lightning speed, your face illuminated with that blue light that makes you glow, I know that I have never seen anything more beautiful._

_And that, Tony, that makes me want to belong in your world._

_Love, Winghead_

* * *

 

Tony had shut Steve out of his workshop.

 

Usually, _usually,_ Steve knew when to respect personal boundaries. Tony had allowed Steve access to places that others were not even allowed to linger near, and it produced a warm glow in Steve’s chest, a sense of kinship and trust and something else he tries his best not to think about. Tony’s workshop was his safe haven, a place that was irrevocably _his,_ and Steve was honoured that Tony agreed to share that space with him. In return, Steve tried his best to both give Tony his space whilst also ensuring that he looked after Tony in a way Tony refused to do himself.

 

So yes, normally if Tony had put the workshop in lockdown Steve would not push it. But today is different, because today Tony needs him.

 

And so, he sits. And he waits.

 

“Did you really sit out here all night, Cap?” Tony would ask him the next morning, finally coaxed out of his self-inflicted exile.

 

“I didn’t want you to think that you were alone,” Steve would reply.

 

Tony would smile in return, tired and not quite reaching his eyes. It would be the Tony Stark smile, the smile given to the world who did not get to see the real Tony, did not deserve to see it.

 

“You are a good friend, Steve,” Tony would say, and Steve would give his own Captain America smile in return, the one everyone and no one got to see.

 

“Anything for you, Tony,” he would say.

 

_I would give the whole world for you, Tony,_ he would think.

 

* * *

 

 

_Dear Shellhead,_

_You are a good man. I tell you that every day, and so do the rest of the team. You let the world define you, let them tell you who you are, let them make judgements that are speculation and nothing else._

_Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, they call you - and you smile and take it all in._

_A nuisance, a threat to world peace, they call you – and you hang your head with acceptance._

_A war profiteer, they call you – and you do nothing but sit there in silence._

_They’re all wrong, Tony. All of them._

_You are a genius – the smartest man the world has ever had the fortune to see, in fact. But people cast you aside and you let it happen, let yourself be overshadowed by Howard Stark’s legacy, failing to see that the legacy you have created is better than your father’s ever was._

_You let them scrutinise the most brilliant thing you made, - he thing that saves the fate of this universe every day - and you let them make it into something bad, something dirty, something to be feared._

_You let them define you by the legacy your father had left and that you nearly died to destruct. You let them wash away the progress you made, the hard work you put in to not being the man you once were._

_You think you deserve it, their criticisms and their judgements. You lock yourself in your lab and drink yourself to numbness. You stare long and hard at the tabloid calling you a villain, and you let yourself believe it._

_You failed to save one life, Tony, but you saved millions in return._

_You think you don’t deserve our love, our gratitude, but you are wrong._

_I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, Tony. Maybe then you would realise that you are a better man than any of us could ever hope to be._

_Love, Winghead_

* * *

_That up there, that is the endgame. How are you guys planning on beating that?_

_Together._

_We’ll lose._

_Then we’ll do that together too._

And so, they did.

 

Together.

 

* * *

 

 

_Dear Shellhead,_

_I miss you._

_I am happy for you; I must also say that. I am happy that you are putting yourself first, for once. You are a truly selfless person, Tony Stark. You have always put others first, always thought of their needs before your own. You try masking it with a face of indifference, you try distancing yourself from them and act like a general asshole so that people don’t see it. But we do, Tony. We all do._

_You told me you want the quiet life, and you deserve it. You deserve to live a life full of happiness with the woman that you love, deserve to finally have a place where you can let go._

_I do still miss you, though. It is lonely without you._

_Love, Shellhead._

* * *

 

 

Steve could not help but look up at Tony.

 

They hadn’t seen each other in months, had talked on the phone very briefly and not for long, the conversations curt and professional. Ultron had put a chasm between them, had created a distance so big that Steve was not sure how to even attempt to cross it.

 

Tony had taken the decision to distance himself for the sake of his own happiness, and Steve was proud.

 

But Tony did not look happy.

 

“I think we have a solution,” Secretary Ross says, and Steve is brought back to reality with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

 

“The Sokovia Accords, approved by 117 countries states that the Avengers will no longer be a private organisation. Instead, they’ll operate under the supervision of the United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.”

 

Tony wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Steve knew that the sinking feeling meant nothing good.

 

* * *

 

 

_Dear Shellhead,_

_You didn’t come to the funeral. I am not blaming you for it, I understand why you didn’t. Peggy meant as much to you as she did to me, and I know this must be just as hard for you. I know my refusal to back up the Accords is not helping you either. I wish I knew what to do, Tony, but I don’t. I don’t trust them, any of them. The Avengers are my family, the only thing that has kept me floating all these years after I woke up in a world that doesn’t want me. I can’t lose them, Tony. I can’t._

_I don’t want to lose you either._

_Love, Winghead._

* * *

 

“He’s my friend,” Steve says, his voice trembling.

 

_Pleaseunderstandpleaseunderstandpleaseunderstand_

“So was I.” he says, and the clank of the vibranium against the glass of the arc reactor is deafening.

 

Steve feels Tony’s heart breaking in his own.

 

* * *

 

_Dear Tony,_

_I am sorry. I am so sorry._

_Sorry is not enough, I know that. Never was and never will be, and yet they are the only words I can offer you. I could say a lot of things, I could tell you that in not telling you I was trying to spare you, but that is not the complete truth. I did want to spare you, I have always wanted to spare you from every problem that could ever fall on you, from every bit of hurt the world can throw at you. But that wasn’t the reason._

_The truth is that I was sparing myself._

_I didn’t tell you the truth because I didn’t want to be in a position where I would have to choose between you and Bucky, because I can’t. Tony you have to understand, when I had no one, I had Buck. When I was just the little guy from Brooklyn who never knew how to run away from a fight, I had Bucky. Some days he was my only reason to live. But when I came into this world, I had no one. But then you crashed into my life, quite literally, and you gave me a reason to live again. You both are an extension of me, and I don’t think I could have survived that choice._

_And I guess I didn’t tell you the truth because I didn’t want you to hate me. I don’t think I could have survived that._

_You are going to get another letter, a letter very different to this one. That letter is going to tell you that I will be here for you, always, whenever you need me. I mean every word of it. I hope you use that phone, Tony. I hope you find it in yourself to forgive me, because whether you need me or not, I need you. I always need you._

_Love, Steve_

* * *

 

**Tony Stark to marry CEO Pepper Potts.**

The headline is bright and bold on the page, visible even through the dark tinted glasses Steve has adorned as a sorry attempt of a disguise.

 

Steve stares long and hard at the phone for hours, willing it to ring.

 

It doesn’t.

 

 

* * *

 

_Dear Tony,_

_Congratulations. You deserve every happiness in this world._

_~~Even if it is not with me.~~ _

__

_Love, Steve._

* * *

Steve watches it all happen - every moment of it.

 

* * *

 

_Dear Tony,_

_Pleasebeokaypleasebeokaypleasebeokay._

* * *

 

Tony doesn’t come back.

 

Steve stands vigil by the window of the compound overlooking the field all day, every day, willing for something, anything.

 

He still doesn’t come back.

* * *

_Dear Tony,_

_Carol and Thor are going to leave tomorrow morning to search the galaxy, to find you. Everyone tells me this is going to work, that we are going to get you back and I believe them. I believe them, Tony. I have to, because I don’t know what I am going to do if it doesn’t._

_Please come back._

_Love, Steve_

* * *

 

 

“Captain Rogers,” FRIDAY’s voice comes from above them, “I think you would like to see this.”

 

There is a static noise as the video feed pulls up in front of them, and then it is _him._ Carol and Thor are on either side of him, supporting his weight. His skin is pale and grainy, his groomed face now covered with an unkept beard so unlike Tony Stark and Steve has never ran faster in his life. He is out in the open ground of the compound in a heartbeat, stopping just short of Tony. Tony looks up at him, the light in his brown eyes all but gone but wide and unbelieving. He looks up at Steve, unblinking, as if he could barely believe it and Steve can’t handle it anymore.

He lunges forward, pulling Tony into his arms. He buries his face in Tony’s neck, wrapping his arms around him tightly. He needs to feel this, needs to feel the solid weight of Tony’s body against his own because Tony is _alive._

“I thought I lost you,” he whispers, so quietly that he can barely pick it up with his own super-hearing.

 

It is not until Tony hesitantly wraps his arms around Steve too that Steve realises his face is wet.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve Rogers sees the mad Titan point his gauntlet at Tony, and he sees red.

 

With that thought, positioning himself between Tony and the blast seems like a reflex action.

 

“Steve? Steve!” Tony’s voice cries out, out of the suit in an instant as he crouches next to Steve’s limp body, pulling him onto his lap.

 

“Steve? Look alive, Captain. You still have a lot to do.”

 

He can hear Nebula battle cry as she lunges at Thanos, sees Thanos drop with a thud. He can see Carol adorn the gauntlet and snap her fingers and can feel himself be filled with the satisfaction that this is over.

 

He smiles, his first real smile in years, and he looks at Tony.

 

“You can go home now,” he whispers.

 

Tony shakes his head. “No, no, Steve, no!”

 

Steve raises his hands, wiping the streaks of bloodied tears from Tony’s face. Then, only after feeling the softness of Tony’s face, only after feeling the rough edges of his beard, does Steve let his eyes close, let’s himself finally _let go._

He feels Tony’s forehead pressing against his own, feels Tony’s breath as he whispers against Steve’s neck.

 

“Stay with me,” he says, and Steve Rogers dies smiling.

 

* * *

 

_Dear Tony,_

_I know I am going to die._

_It is funny, really, because I accepted my death long ago. You see, when you cheat death once, you are always looking over your shoulder. Always waiting for it to come knocking on your door, unexpected. I suppose you know a thing or two about that, huh?_

_I have always been ready to die, but I don’t think I want to. Not anymore. Not when I have you._

_And yet, I don’t, do I? You have a life established for yourself, with Pepper and Peter and Rhodey and May and even the rest of the Avengers. I don’t fit in there, Tony. Not anymore. And yet, just having you there is enough. When you were gone, I swore to every deity in this universe that I will be content, happy even, as long as it gave you back to me. Seeing you alive that day, it is the only thing I have wanted._

_The thing is, Tony, that I don’t belong in this world. Steve Rogers died in a plane crash nearly 80 years ago – the past decade has, for the most part, felt like borrowed time. And borrowed time can only last so long. But you know when was the only time when I felt like I truly belonged? When I was with you. I always imagined home to be the forties, of that little apartment I shared with Bucky. But one day, you had walked into the kitchen after an all-nighter in the workshop, demanding coffee, and my whole perspective had shifted. I had realised that my home isn’t a place, had not been a place for a long time._

_My home is you. It has always been you._

_When I came into this world, I had nothing, I had no one. But then you came along, and you gave me a purpose, Tony. You gave me somewhere to belong. You gave me a home. And for that I will forever be grateful._

_I love you, Tony. I always have, and I know that I will always will, until my last dying breath. When I drift off, Tony, I will be thinking about you. It has always been you._

_Love, Steve._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry?


End file.
